If this is what growth feels like—this sting in my chest, the confusing pull between who I was and what I see now—then I’d rather pass.
“You make it sound easy, but this feels impossible.”
“Not easy, nor impossible. You are already doing it,” Lumi says simply. “Growth is often hard. Often painful. Sometimes things must break and stretch in new ways to find new reach.”
“Great,” I sigh. “I can’t wait to addpainfulon top of awkward and guilty in the list of what I’m feeling.”
Before Lumi can reply, a sharp rap sounds at my door.
Her glow dims in an instant, and the pendant near my hand shifts with the weight of the returning moonstone.
Do remember to breathe, Valkie.
I slip the chain over my head and shove my anxieties down with it.
Biting cold nips at my cheeks as I step out into the night air from the inn’s back door, the heat of the kitchen still clinging to my skin. The heavy wooden door swings shut behind me, cutting off the last murmurs of conversation from the staff winding down after closing.
I heave the trash bag higher and head for the bins along the edge of the courtyard. Soap smell lingers on my hands, much more pleasant than the smells emanating from the bag. Lifting it over the lip of the bin makes my arms ache after hours of dishwashing. At least I didn’t break anything tonight.
The sky above the Frozen Forest is clear and cold, the stars like ice chips scattered across purple velvet. I pull my coat tight around me and start back, only to jump at the figure pulling free from a shadow.
Lark stands in the dim light spilling from the inn’s lantern, a small bundle cradled in his arms. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” His four-winds hat sits low over his forehead, as always, but something small and bristly shifts atop it.
Hugo clings to the brim, his little eyes bright and alert, enjoying his nocturnal adventures.
There’s movement at ground level, too. A snow fox darts into the darkness pooled between two cottages. The air is thick with the scent of pine and fresh snow as the bushy white tail disappears into the forest. The rare sighting has me in awe, even as more shadows slip away between the trees. I've never seen animals come so close.
I stop in my tracks. “Lark? What are you doing out here?”
“Eevi wouldn’t settle. I didn’t want to wake the house.”
“Wayg, wayg.” Eevi giggles.
I glance down at the babbling girl in Lark’s arms. Her round face is barely visible beneath the layers of blankets, but her wide, wakeful eyes gleam in the lantern light.
“She’s usually asleep by now, isn’t she?”
“You’d think,” Lark mutters, bouncing her gently.
Eevi lets out a squeal, which Hugo answers from above. They make such a sweet tableau it’s impossible not to smile back.
I clear my throat. “Since you’re here, I could use your help with something.”
Lark raises an eyebrow.
“Daria came by earlier. Another member of her cleaning staff left Ylvara for warmer lands, so now she needs me on cleaning duty tomorrow instead of dishes.”
“Ah.” Lark’s mouth twitches. “And you’re afraid you’ll break the mops? Tear the sheets? Flood the washing chambers?”
“Har, har. No, although now I’m a little worried about those things. I just…don’t want to mess it up. Especially not when Daria is keeping our secret.”
His teasing fades, and he nods. “What do you need to know?”
“Everything! I’ve never cleaned a room before. Er, I mean, someone else’s room. A guest room. You know what I mean.”
Lark exhales, adjusting his stance. “It’s not complicated. You’ll go in after the guests leave, clear out any dishes, empty the trash, swap the towels and sheets. You can set out the vacumage to do the floors while you clean the wash chamber.”
“The wash chamber?”
